


Everybody Loves Yuuri

by LilianRoses



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Oblivious Katsuki Yuuri, Possessive Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 10:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10358040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilianRoses/pseuds/LilianRoses
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri is an adorable cinnamon roll who doesn't understand just how much people adore him. That was fine. It was just Viktor's job to make sure to keep decent space between others andhisadorable littleХерувим.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [[中文翻譯] Everybody Loves Yuuri](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559022) by [Enlightener](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enlightener/pseuds/Enlightener)



> _Херувим ___means cherub in Russian (according to Google translate, please don't murder me 0^0;). And yes, I spell Viktor with a K. Comments keep me motivated and make me feel warm and fuzzy inside, so please leave one! ^v^/

\-----

Viktor felt like hissing. It wasn't an uncommon desire nowadays.

 

When Yuuri had moved to St. Petersburg to live with him, he had been ecstatic. They were officially engaged, living together, and having sex on a regular basis. He really hadn't thought it could get much better. Yuuri _had_ been a little nervous about practicing on his new home rink, however. He wasn't Russian, and he'd never shared a rink with this many skaters during his senior division. Viktor had told him not to worry, and assured him that everyone would love him. He frowned.

 

He didn't think that they'd love him  _this_ much.

 

Yuuri had a talent for ensnaring people. Be it with his face, or his his hard-working attitude, or his calm demeanor and voice, people were constantly drawn to him. And he never took advantage of this, either. He was quite literally the definition of too goddamn pure for this world. He loved and hated this at the same time.

 

He watched as his fiance shifted from a sit-spin into a camel-spin, and from the camel into a Biellmann. It wasn't competition crisp, but they had time to correct it. Yuuri had announced his theme for this year as 'rebirth'. Most people thought it was suitably fitting, seeing as how he had gone from a last-place disaster on the verge of retirement to a silver-medalist.There were also people who thought Viktor was crazy for coaching someone he was competing against (not to mention the fact that he was coaching and competing simutaneously in the first place), but he didn't let them stop him. He called out to Yuuri.

 

"You're looking a little wobbly on that sit-spin, _Херувим_! Make sure to keep your core tight!"

 

Yuuri (who was huffing from exertion) shot him a thumbs up before starting his sequence again. Viktor noted happily that he no longer went red at the use of the pet-name. When he had first used it in public, Yuuri had looked as though he was about to explode.

 

_"What's wrong with it?"_

_"It's **embarassing,** Viktor!"_

" _But it's fitting, no? You're small, slightly chubby, and angelic. My own little cherub!"_

_"Viktor..."_

 

Mila yelled out to Yuuri, something about lunch, which ripped him away from his fond memories and drew his attention back towards his current issue. His rinkmates had taken to Yuuri like moths to a flame. Just thinking about it brought the urge to hiss back full force. But Yuuri was ever-so-grateful that he'd been accepted with open arms, and he wasn't going to ruin his peace of mind because of a childish desire to monopolize his lover.

 

But his patience _was_ wearing rather thin.

 

"Go on without me, Mila. I've got to get this sit-spin down. Not to mention the hell I'll have to go through to burn off whatever fried food I eat."

"Don't you ever give yourself a cheat day?"

"I gain weight really easily..."

"That doesn't mean you should suffer! Come to lunch with me!"

 

Viktor had heard enough. His fake-chipper voice cut into the conversation like a piece of frosted plastic.

 

"If you weren't a woman, Mila, I'd think you were trying to sabotage the competition!"

 

 _Damn it._ Yuuri blinked, seemingly oblivious to Viktor's suffering.

 

"She wouldn't do that, Vitya. She was just inviting me out to lunch. You should apologize."

"Yeah,  _Vitya._ You should apologize."

 

He did so (because Yuuri wouldn't forgive him until he did), but he made it sound as insincere as he could without Yuuri catching on. Like hell he'd give her the satisfaction of a meaningful one.

\-----

This was utter BS. He'd thought that Yakov was above this.

 

But he felt the unfamiliar (but rapidly becoming familiar) desire to swear rise up as he watched in a mixture of horror and disbelief as his fiance easily _charmed the hell out of his coach_. Viktor's practice time was immediately before Yuuri's, so they commuted to the rink together on most mornings. Normally Yuuri would stretch, dance, or do some other form of cardio while he waited for his turn on the ice. 

 

But today he had chosen to watch Viktor practice. He stood next to Yakov and Yuri, yelling the occasional encouragement or term of endearment. But that wasn't what bent him out of shape. He did have the tendency to dismiss advice sometimes, but he was a five-time gold medalist. He could afford to. But just as Yakov went red in the face and looked ready to let him have it, Yuuri turned to him with wide eyes and apologized for his behavior. He told him that it must be difficult to coach someone who was unwilling to listen, and thanked him for continuing to coach him anyway. 

 

Yakov's color returned to normal almost immediately. Coming from anybody else the words would have sounded fake. But Yuuri made them sound genuine, and apparantly not even Yakov was immune to the charms of Yuuri Katsuki. Yakov had even started to have a conversation with him, asking him questions about his routine and regimine. His fiance had told him where he had struggled, but assured him that he was doing his best to improve. Yakov gave him instructions, and Yuuri thanked him for the advice. Obviously not used to being listened to without a lecture, Yakov had only nodded. Viktor skated over to them, mildly annoyed.

 

"I'm more than capable of coaching my skater, Yakov."

"Obviously not, if he's been struggling with his sit-spin for this long! And what are you doing over here, when you should be working on that catch-foot layback?! Even if you  ** _are_** out of practice, there's no excuse for such a sloppy rotation-"

\-----

Viktor knew fangirls were going to be a thing.

 

He had his own hoard, and so did nearly every other male figure skater. Hell, Yuri and JJ had names for theirs. And he had even told Yuuri to embrace his fans ( a fact that he was now borderline regretting). The season had only just started, and yet already loyal fans were gathered outside the rink where this particular competition was being held. Viktor winked over his sunglasses, used to the commotion. Yuuri still looked a little surprised at the attention he was getting, though. You almost wouldn't think he was a silver medalist. Viktor nudged him.

 

"Don't just shuffle past,  _Херувим._ Say hi to them!"

"B-but I don't even-"

"Just do like I do! They're going to take your photo anyway, so just smile, wave, and give them a good one!"

 

He should have known better. But really, could he have expected this? He didn't think so. Yuuri had bitten his lip, before reaching up to take off his glasses. (That in-and-of itself was dangerous. Yuuri sans glasses was devastatingly attractive.) He shot his adoring fans his best  _eros_ smile, and winked in a very  _Viktor-esque_ fashion.

 

The crowd had erupted in screams.

 

Viktor had decided that it was time to, in Yuri's language,  _'get the fuck out of there'_. Yuuri had been so shocked by the outburst that he had just allowed himself to be yanked into the building. Security's job had just gotten about ten times harder as they fought to keep the rowdy mass of people behind the barrier. Once they were safely within the 'skater's only' area of the rink, Yuuri looked at Viktor with a look that made Viktor want to throw himself into the sun. It was a look of honest confusion and slight panic.

 

"What happened? Why did everyone start screaming?"

 

Viktor couldn't keep himself from sinking onto the floor. He didn't know whether to laugh maniacally, scream psychotically, or cry hysterically, so he just...laid there.

 

" _Viktor?!_ Viktor, what's wrong?!"

\-----

Cameras went off all around them, and Viktor couldn't have been prouder. Yuuri looked at his gold medal in disbelief, tears streaming down his cheeks. Viktor kissed it, and then him, his own silver medal resting against his chest. He hugged Yuuri tight.

 

"Congratulations,  _Херувим._ I'm so, so proud of you."

"Does this mean we can get married now?"

 

That startled a laugh out of Viktor.

 

"Yes. Yes it does,  _Херувим."_

 _"Oi._ Stop being gross on the podium, you old farts."

 

Viktor raised an eyebrow at Yuri, who wore the bronze.

 

"These  _old farts_ just took gold  _and_ silver. Respect your elders."

"You fucking-"

 

A glare from his ballet instructor reigned in the flurry of curse words that were no doubt just waiting to come out. Phichit, Otabek, and Christophe waved from behind the barrier. They waved back, just as ecstatic, and glad that there were no hard feelings. Yuuri, in a rare fit of confidence, grabbed Viktor by the front of his skating costume and pulled him into a deep kiss. He released him before he could really get into it, and grinned mischieviously.

 

"Great. We'll have to celebrate accordingly. Now you don't have to keep fighting jealousy every time someone gets close to me."

 

When had he-

 

"Phichit informed me when I had complained to him about your weird behavior. I skated  _Eros_ for you, and yet you still thought someone else was going to swoop in and woo me? Silly  _Vitya._ Now smile!"

 

It took Viktor an embarassing amount of time to compose himself. Right. They were in front of who knows how many cameras, and on international television. Maybe he was wrong about Yuuri. He wasn't a cinnamon roll. He was a  _sin_ namon roll. Not that he minded.

 

(And they did celebrate their wins, and their upcoming wedding, accordingly.)

\-----

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                        

 

 

 

 


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